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Whatever he was hiding, it was big. And it terrified him far more than it would ever scare her.
Chapter 6 - Vinir
Court assembled with a hushed murmur, waiting for Vinir's word for the queries, complaints, and petitions to begin, but he was silent. He was far off in another world. His head stuck on the sweet, dark moments he and Aelwen had shared last week beneath the sheets.
Skin so soft. A body so eager to please. A pussy so wet and tight he couldn't get enough of it in his dreams.
He almost regretted blowing Aelwen off afterward. Now that he'd gotten a taste of her, he wanted more. Likely the only reason he hadn't given in to his savage desires again was that she'd so staunchly avoided him since, and he hadn't been given a chance to. Unless he broke down and searched for her.
Which he wouldn't do in a million years because that would be admitting that he needed her.
"My king?" the steward's voice rang through his thoughts. "We are prepared to begin court whenever you are ready."
Vinir cleared his throat. For fuck's sake, he would spend this entire time listening to people's complaints daydreaming about Aelwen's pussy in his mouth. Damn, if she didn't taste like dessert.
He let the images of her fall away and focused for the first time in the last twenty minutes on the sea of faces before him. The throne room was a grand hall, with ornate tapestries and flags draped from the ceiling and a large gold-inlaid throne sitting atop a pedestal in the center, where Vinir currently sat. The floor was a deep red marble, polished and shining. Tall pillars held up ornately carved arches and lined the walls. Chairs and benches were placed around the room’s edges for visitors to sit in. Nobles from all over the city and lands beyond wereassembled, dressed in their finest attires to look as pleasing to the eye as possible, as though their wealth would make a difference to him.
"Very well," Vinir said after a long moment. "Let's begin."
Good thing Aelwen wasn't here in person to torment him. Maybe he could find some focus if he was lucky.
The first member of the court came forward, a man dressed in a long robe of teal and turquoise and a golden belt.
"My king, I seek your judgment on a matter of great importance," the man began. "I request leniency for my son, who is accused of thievery by the royal guard."
Vinir raised an eyebrow. This was not an unusual request; he had heard it countless times before. He knew exactly what his answer would be.
"You, sir, what is your name?"
"Lord Barnnigan, Your Majesty."
"Lord Barnnigan, you have the look of a trader to me. Is that correct?"
He straightened proudly and placed a hand flat against his heart. "That's right. The Barnnigan family has long since traded spices and other valuable goods in high demand across Elysium, traveling all the way from the islands in the south to the fae lands in the northeast."
"Have you ever had goods that you worked hard to obtain stolen from you?"
The man's eyes darkened. "Yes, my good king, we had a shipment of amber and spice stolen last year. It was to our immeasurable luck that the thieves were caught, and we had the thieves punished by the highest count of the law."
"And how would you have felt if these thieves had been let off easily?"
Lord Barnnigan seemed to catch on to where this was going and looked aghast. "But my son is not a thief! He merely borrowed a cloak. It was never intended to be a permanent arrangement—"
"I am sorry," Vinir said firmly, his voice filled with finality. "Your son's crime cannot be overlooked or pardoned in any way. Should I be lenient on your son simply because you are a lord, that would be favoritism, and the balance of order would be sent askew. Your son will be imprisoned and receive the expected punishment fit for the crime."
The man gasped in shock. "But you can't—my son is—I'm important!"
"Guards, see him out."
Vinir remained firm in his decision. If he had learned anything from being king, it was that justice must always be served no matter how much it hurt those involved. He had come to terms with it long ago, even though it pained him every time someone's life was changed because of his decisions.
He went through a series of more boring petitions, denying them or accepting proposals as he saw fit or beneficial to him and his kingdom. Many hours passed, with more instances of Vinir being distracted by thoughts of Aelwen as the day went on.
Next came a woman to petition him, wearing long robes of emerald and sapphire hues. She was intimidatingly tall, with a mane of thick, dark hair flowing down her back. When she spoke, her voice was like a deep bell, commanding attention, and respect.
"My king," she began. "I come to you today to speak of a matter of great importance to the future of your kingdom."
Vinir frowned as he realized what she was about to say. He had been expecting this question for some time, but he still felt uneasy whenever someone brought it up. "The alliance with the fae," he said flatly.
